


Uncharted

by Elwyne



Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:59:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elwyne/pseuds/Elwyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of tragedy, Ellie Miller meets a stranger with a familiar face and a very unusual police box.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncharted

Ellie Miller stood on the empty beach, gazing out across the steel-grey water. The waves crashed and hissed like a jeering crowd. Leaden clouds dimmed the sun, and a biting wind scattered the sand at her feet.

It was the last she'd ever see of this beach. Her letter of resignation lay on Jenkinson's desk; her bags were packed, her children waiting at the hotel with their aunt and cousin. Her whole life had shattered, her solid footing turned in an instant to loose shale: she was falling, falling endlessly, no safe landing within reach.

With a sigh she turned away from the water, and back toward the road above. To her surprise, DI Hardy stood atop the cliff, gazing up into the gloomy sky. He wore a brown overcoat she had never seen before, and squinted through an unfamiliar pair of horn-rimmed glasses. The wind ruffled his hair till it stood straight on end.

As she approached she realized it wasn't Hardy at all, but another man like enough to be his twin: a younger twin, clean-shaven, and quivering with energy like a greyhound ready to race. Beneath the overcoat he wore a slim-cut blue suit, a slightly maniacal tie, and bright red sand shoes. Catching sight of her he offered a wide smile and a friendly wave.

"Hello," he called. "I'm the Doctor. Is this your beach?"

"No," she said, startled. The voice was the same, but the accent was London. "What doctor?"

"Just the Doctor. Where is this, anyway?"

"Broadchurch. Dorset." She looked about for a second car - he didn't look like a rambler - but all she saw was a 1960s-style blue police box she knew for a fact wasn't there before. "Are you lost?" she asked, frowning at the mysterious box.

"Usually," said the Doctor cheerfully. "But I do seem to end up in merry old England more often than chance would dictate. Not that I mind, of course." He breathed in deeply through his nose, like he was smelling the air. "Twenty-twelve, is it? Twenty-thirteen?"

Ellie stared at him, wondering if she was going mad. Had she conjured up a lunatic version of her boss, a cartoon copper with a police box and a gob? "Who are you?" she asked.

"Told you, I'm the Doctor. You haven't said who you are."

"Detective -" She stopped, swallowed, and tried again. "Ellie. Ellie Miller."

He raised one eyebrow, in exactly the way Hardy did. She looked away.

"Not Detective?" he asked gently.

"Not anymore." She shook her head to clear it. "Look, I have to go, all right? Enjoy the beach."

Ellie hurried up the road to her car. The stranger said nothing. She thought that if she turned she would find the beach empty, the man and his box mere symptoms of her own hysteria. Rest is what you need, she told herself. Get the boys and get somewhere quiet. Somewhere far away. 

As she reached the car, her heart sank. Both rear tires had been thoroughly and methodically slashed. She crouched down to look at the damage, shame and fury burning her chest. Already the town had turned against her. She had waited too long to leave.

"Need a lift?" said the Doctor, suddenly beside her.

She stood up quickly. "It's fine. I'll just ring my nephew, he'll -" Her voice broke. Olly would come, of course. He would frown and rage. She could already see the bewilderment in his young face, another wound to his earnest idealism. Swallowing her pride she changed her mind.

"Yeah," she said. "That would be nice."

"Right, then, allons-y!" The Doctor's long coat danced on the wind as he strode back toward the strange blue box. Ellie hurried to keep up.

"Did you put that there, then?" she asked him. "What's it for?"

"It's a police box," he said. "It's for calling for help." He unlocked the door with an ordinary key and held it open. "Fancy a look?"

"All right." She stepped past him cautiously. "I've never seen inside one before, by the time I..." Her voice trailed off. 

"Everything all right?" the Doctor asked innocently.

Ellie drew back and frowned at him. "That's impossible."

He grinned. "Oh, yes."

Ellie dared another look. Outside, the box was an ordinary wooden structure, four feet by nine or so on a side, paint scuffed in places and faded with age. Inside, however...

"How does it do that?"

"It's dimensionally transcendental," said the Doctor. "The interior exists on a slightly different plane. Cross the threshold, and you've entered not just a box, but the TARDIS."

"The what?"

"TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It can take you anywhere in the universe, any time you like."

She stared at him. Something not quite human looked out of Alec Hardy's eyes; an alien smirk crossed the well-known yet unfamiliar face. Ellie backed away.

"I think I'll just ring my nephew. Thanks anyway."

The Doctor shrugged. "No bother."

She turned away from the strange man and his strange machine, and instantly she felt calmer as the world looked as it ought to again. Then she caught sight of her vandalised car. Nothing was as it ought to be, not anymore. Not ever again. She turned back.

"Anywhere in the universe?"

The Doctor grinned. "Anywhere."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "This is just where I landed."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Out of the whole universe?"

He patted the blue box like it was a favorite horse. "One thing I can count on," he said cheerfully. "She always takes me where I'm needed."

"Are you saying I need you?"

"You tell me, Ellie Miller."

She looked out again at the water. The horizon had darkened; somewhere out on the Channel a storm was brewing. The air smelled of rain.

"Can you change the past? Bring the dead back to life?"

"No," he said quietly.

"I thought not."

Sand crunched underfoot as he moved to her side. His hand brushed hers, cool and dry in the drizzly air. She shivered.

"You've lost something, Ellie Miller."

Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded.

"And you'd like it back."

"Course I would. But you just said, it's impossible."

"Oh, I'm very good at impossible."

She stared at him. He grinned, mischief flashing in his too-familiar eyes.

"Ellie Miller," he said, "allons-y!"

 

A billion stars unfolded before her eyes like a great spiral carpet, twinkling and glittering in every color of the rainbow. Ellie clung to the ordinary wooden door, open-mouthed in wonder.

"The Milky Way Galaxy," the Doctor proclaimed. "A middling barred spiral galaxy, not one of the fancier ones, nothing special or showy about it. And right there -" he pointed to one of the fainter arms of the spiral - "right there's your home, Ellie Miller. Earth, England, Dorset, Broadchurch. Everyone you've ever met, ever seen on telly, ever heard of - and everything that's ever happened to any of them - it's all right there, so small you can't even see it."

Ellie gaped. In silence she gazed out at the majestic sweep of stars, everything every human had ever known in one tiny speck against the black. I must be dreaming, she thought. This can't be real. I'm still on the beach, passed out somehow, hallucinating. Why can't I wake up?

"My whole life is gone." Her voice sounded flat in her ears, a stranger speaking her thoughts. "My husband, he - god, I loved that bastard. He destroyed us. He ruined everything, with his selfish -" She began to cry, thick, choking sobs. "Beth's right to hate me," she wept. "He murdered her child, and I'm angry with him for hurting my feelings."

The Doctor said nothing. Self-conscious, Ellie choked back the tears. 

"Anything else you'd like to see?" the Doctor asked gently. "Any planet, any galaxy, any moment in history. Any place or time you'd like."

"Any time?"

"Any." He patted the door frame with affection. "Whenever you want to go."

Ellie swallowed. "I'd like to see my boys being born. Can you do that?"

The smile faded. "It's dangerous," he said. "Two of you in the same place weakens the time stream. You can't touch her, shouldn't even talk to her -"

"I'll be careful."

"You're certain."

She nodded. More than anything she wanted that moment again.

 

The woman in the bed screamed and swore. Crouched by her side Joe whispered sweet nothings, his face infused with joy and terror. He held her hand as she cursed him. Ellie tore her eyes away, gazing down at the monitor she was pretending to watch. Covered head to toe in hospital scrubs, she and the Doctor hid in plain sight in the back of the room. 

"God I was horrible," she muttered.

"If I'd been made to guess," said the Doctor, "I'd never have imagined that an overlarge brain was among humanity's problems."

The woman screamed again. A doctor shouted; and then there was a cry, a tiny, vigorous, and above all angry cry. Ellie looked up as the blood-smeared, hairless bundle was passed from doctor to nurse, quickly cleaned and swaddled, and set gently in his mother's arms. Tears ran down her cheeks watching her own pale, exhausted face break into an enchanted smile. Joe kissed his wife, then kissed his son, beaming like heaven itself. The baby stopped crying and began to nurse. His parents exchanged a glance so full of wonder, so full of love - 

Ellie turned away, sick at heart. "Doctor," she begged, "get me out of here."

 

"So it wasn't all you hoped for," said the Doctor as he shut the TARDIS door.

Ellie shook her head. "Looking at him, knowing what he would do in eleven years' time - it's unbearable. Like watching someone plant a time bomb in a child's toy."

"You don't want to see the other one, then?"

"No." She looked up at him, sure she didn't imagine his sigh of relief. "Thank you. I'd just like to go home."

The Doctor fixed her with an analytic gaze. "There's one other thing I think you should see."

"All right," she shrugged.

"It's probably best if you forget most of it afterward," he said, pulling a lever.

Ellie grabbed one of the coral supports for balance as the craft lurched sideways. "I always forget my dreams."

 

"Ah, Cambridge!" The Doctor drew a deep breath as he stepped through the TARDIS doors. "Twenty thirty-one on the dot!"

Ellie stepped out onto the grassy lawn. Young people in academic robes swirled along the pathways and gathered under the trees. Families moved among them: proud parents in their Sunday best, younger siblings looking on with envy.

"Too bad old Chronos has gone," said the Doctor. "I'm sure he'd offer us a lovely tea."

"Did you say twenty thirty-one?" said Ellie.

"Yep. Graduation day."

"That's years from now."

"Actually, it is now. It's years from then."

"I mean, it doesn't look any different."

The Doctor glanced around the ancient square. "Well, Cambridge looks basically the same whatever century you land in. But England herself hasn't changed all that much. The air's a bit nicer, the roads a bit quieter - you've switched to electric cars, finally, and harnessed the energy of the sun -"

Ellie looked up as he babbled on. The sun shone brightly even in a grey sky, thin wisps of cloud hiding its face. The air smelled clean and fresh. 

"Why are we here?" she asked.

"What? Oh. You'll see." The Doctor took her arm and steered her across the lawn toward a teeming pathway. Nearby someone squealed; a slender, tousle-haired girl hitched up her robes and ran, barreling through the crowd to be caught up in the arms of her family. Ellie gasped.

"That's Beth!" she whispered. Her friend's smile shone as she hugged and kissed the exuberant girl. Beside her Mark beamed with paternal pride. Silver glinted in his hair as he bent to receive his daughter's embrace. The entire family seemed to shine with an inner light. Ellie turned to the Doctor, her mouth hanging open.

"Daisy Latimer," he said. "Her parents will never forget their son, but nor does their loss diminish their joy in his sisters."

Ellie's eyes filled with tears. Beth, laughing, straightened her daughter's robe and unruly mouse-brown tresses. She glowed. No one could look at her and see the face that Ellie had seen, grief-stricken and accusing in the dark.

"She's all right," Ellie said. "Beth's okay. They're still here, they're still a family -" She stopped, seizing the Doctor's lapels in both hands. "What about my family?" she said desperately. "What about my boys? Are they all right? Please, tell me!"

His hands closed gently over hers. "I can't show you your own future."

"Please." The tears poured down her cheeks. "Please, you must. I have to know. Tell me they're okay, Doctor, please!"

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."

Ellie collapsed against him, sobbing into his shoulder as her heart broke all over again. "Why?" she wailed. "Why Danny? Why Joe? What did we ever do to deserve it?"

The Doctor said nothing; he merely held her, his kind embrace drawing out her pain. The stream of joyous young people and their families ebbed and flowed around them. The sun shone, the world turned, and Ellie, despairing, wept.

 

"What would you do if you knew?"

Ellie sat in the lumpy chair beside the TARDIS console, staring at its mad assortment of buttons, levers, and dials.

"If something happened in those twenty years, and you knew, how could you go back to them and be the mother they need?"

Ellie just stared. It wasn't fair. Nothing, none of it was fair.

"They need you, Ellie. Just the way you are. Not chasing a certain future, or running from one. They need you by their side, on the same path, going in the same direction."

"But it's all right to show me Beth's future."

The Doctor thrust his face into her line of sight. "When I take you home, Ellie, how much of Beth are you going to see?"

She turned away. She couldn't bear that face, couldn't bear his words. Her head ached from crying, but still more tears threatened.

"Your own future, your sons' future, is in your hands. Beth's isn't. What you know can't hurt her."

He was right, and she knew it. She let out a long breath. "Doctor," she said wearily.

"Yes?"

"Please take me home."

"Home it is." He leaped to his feet and danced around the console, flipping switches and spinning dials and grinning like a madman. Ellie wondered how she could ever have seen Alec Hardy in him. The center column began to shift up and down like a great piston. There was the sound of spacetime tearing, and the room shuddered like a ship on a rough sea. "Ellie Miller," the Doctor shouted over the din. "Allons-y!" 

 

Rain began to fall as Ellie gazed up at the light in the first-story window. Her family waited inside their hotel room, every bit as unmoored as she was, every bit as frightened. Her family needed her.

She glanced over her shoulder at the TARDIS. The strange blue box stood unobtrusively on the corner. Its shabby paint gleamed in the wet. The things she had seen through its doors faded, dreamlike, from her memory. They didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered, nothing except her children. Everything else could be forgotten.

As she watched, the TARDIS too faded away. Its unique sound echoed for a moment in her ears, and then it was gone.

It was all gone. The life she had shared with Joe, their friends, the dream of growing old together in this place. Instead, an empty future lay open before her. She looked up at the window where her family waited. There was no choice to make.

Ellie Miller walked toward the hotel, striding boldly into the unknown.


End file.
